Till Death Do Us Part
by Lady Shadow
Summary: Sequel to To Have and Hold. Several schemes are revealed some from unexpected sources.


Author's notes:

The much-awaited sequel is finally being written! blush I'm afraid I've spent more time _planning_ this one than actually writing it. It's gotten off a bit awkward, but the flow and quality should improve as I settle into the plot. And you all _know_ how terrible I am with updates, so don't expect the chapters to come with any sort of regularity. Each chapter will be posted to my group a full twenty-four hours before reaching so if you would like to get a hold of it before it 'hits the press,' you'll have to join my group, which can be found at www dot groups dot yahoo dot com slash group slash indigodragonkiss slash. I'm sure you can figure out how to get that in your address bar so it works.

Thank you everyone who reviewed To Have and Hold, and I hope I get as much support with this one. For the future, if you want me to get in contact with you PLEASE remember that you can't write out e-mails on they don't show up. Use the format above (i.e. somebody01 at yahoo dot com) and I will get back to you. If not shrug there's nothing I can do.

Lady Shadow

_In the end, it was the silence he would remember_.

**HARRY!** _a panicked shriek…jaded green eyes…but in the end, it was the silence._

ONE:

"Oh, my God!" Petunia declared as she was led to her rooms. They were smaller than many, but more than ample and they connected to her son's suite, so she was quite pleased.

"I trust they are adequate?"

"Oh, yes! They're beautiful! Dudderkins, look at mummy's room!"

"Very nice, mum," Dudley said dispassionately. His mother had been gushing nonstop since they had arrived at Snape manner, and it was starting to wear on his frazzled nerves. He felt like he was about to wake up, only to find that he'd been talking in his sleep and his father had heard everything. He glanced over at Snape briefly; the man had a dark expression on his face that threatened many _horrid_ things were to be visited upon his mother if she didn't stop her blathering.

"Well, aunt Petunia," Harry interrupted, seeing his husband's expression. "We'll leave you to get settled in. We'll both be returning to Hogwarts in a few days, but the house elves will still be here and I'm sure Helen would be more than happy to come introduce you to the wizarding world… and I'm sure you'll find L'oReen to be an amiable enough companion, though he does have a lot to do around the house, so he'll likely be busy most of the time." Harry tossed a glance at Severus who rolled his eyes dramatically and nudged his head toward the door. It was a series of expressions that didn't seem to fit with his personality and almost made Harry laugh, but he managed to suppress the urge and instead smiled at his aunt.

"I'll be taking a trip to Diagon Alley tomorrow; Severus needs to prepare for classes so I doubt he'll be able to come, but we can at least outfit you with robes. Come the end of the year, I'll start looking into schools for you," Harry offered and she smiled that pinched, horrid smile that she usually reserved for Dudley.

"You know best in these matters, I'm sure," she said sweetly. Harry barely avoided raising his eyebrows in shock and covered with a soft cough and a smile.

"Of course. We'll leave you to your unpacking," Harry suggested, backing out of the room, Severus quickly following.

As soon as the door closed, Severus sighed in unveiled relief.

"I think I can understand your uncle's insanity," he muttered out of the side of his mouth. Harry chuckled.

"Sometimes, I think I understand, too… but then, I remember living with him and it's hard to understand him."

"Have you thought at all as to which you school you're going to send them to?" Severus asked finally.

"Are you that anxious to be rid of them?" Harry demanded, though there was a laugh in his voice. He was in a good mood, and because of that good mood, comments that he might have taken offensive a week ago –hell, two _days_ ago- were perfectly alright now. He'd begun to have regrets almost immediately after their much rushed not-quite-coupling, but, though he expected it to further destroy what little relationship they had managed to build up over the last months, it had seemed to fortify it. Now, if only he could keep one of his husband's infamous mood swings from setting him off and wrecking it all…

"Harry?"

"Hm? I'm sorry, I wasn't listening."

"Obviously." Harry gave him an unconcerned expression that, while not innocent, was not apologetic or guilty in the least. Severus rolled his eyes. "It's your aunt that I would rather be quit of soon. Your cousin isn't really that bad; he's done a lot of growing up from what you've told me of how he used to be."

"He has…I was thinking that we should probably send Petunia to the Welsh School of Magicks and Dudley to the Russian Magical Academy. Best to separate them and Petunia would have an epileptic fit if I tried to send her to America. Barbarians!" He added in very good imitation of his aunt's haughty tones that came about whenever she mentioned anything regarding America.

"Good. I'll get them a tutor to start them out on basic magics. Maybe it will keep them out of my hair."

"There are plenty of places for you to run and hide to avoid them."

"Yes, but I would rather not let them wander around unattended. There are a lot of things in this house that could do them harm. Or that could be harmed by them."

"So ward the floors and rooms you don't want them to have access to. The dungeons definitely, maybe the south corridor, too. And I don't suppose the portraits in the east hall would be too appreciative of them."

"Probably not. I'll get to work on that tomor… I'll start that today," he amended, a shudder visibly running through his body and engendering a frightening scowl that pulled a laugh out of Harry. They walked in silence for a few moments, feet carrying them aimless down the hall and toward the main stairs.

"Severus?" Harry said finally when they reached the top of the stairs.

"Yes?" Harry cleared his throat a little nervously.

"Have you thought at all about what I said?"

"You said a lot," Severus admitted, though it was apparent by his expression that he had a pretty good idea about what Harry wanted.

"I meant… about the master bedroom. You know… if you wanted. And you don't have to say anything now, obviously… not like I'm going to make you talk or-"

"Harry! I'll have a house elf move my things today." Harry beamed at him and he spared an extremely small smile for his young husband and then continued down the stairs without waiting for any further commentary.

Their first night back in the master bedroom was awkward. The need they had discovered under the Dursley's roof seemed to have faded into a vaguely embarrassing sense of obligation.

Harry climbed into the bed first, slowly moving into the center and crashing amongst the pillows. Something about being at Snape Manor again made him want to curl into a little ball and burrow under the pillows. The impulse passed and Harry calmed his breathing. In a matter of a few minutes, the bed dipped next to him and Severus was lying on his back, seeming to be equally unsure of himself. Harry had seen this unsure and easily injured Severus at the Dursleys, and he didn't know if he liked it. Very suddenly, the other night felt like a gigantic mistake, and he began to regret offering to move back into master bedroom. He opened his mouth to say something to the effect of "I'm sorry, but we should probably move back into our own rooms," when Severus suddenly took a deep breath, rolled onto his side and pulled Harry into his arms. Harry's breath caught in his throat and he relaxed; Severus' arms were amazingly strong and his body was amazingly warm and Harry suddenly felt very comfortable and warm and secure.

The sense of comfort was banished at the first touch of Severus' lips on the back of his neck. He became painfully rigid and, in turn, Severus tensed as well. The seconds passed and then, abruptly, Severus laughed. His laugh wasn't exactly the young, light laugh he'd heard at the Dursleys, but it wasn't the harsh, condescending cackle that Harry had known and dreaded for the past five years either.

"We went too fast," he said, seeming to find it immensely funny. Harry laughed too and the tension was broken.

"I guess we did. I'm sorry," he offered; after all, he had initiated the contact and Severus had tried to stop it.

"I wasn't complaining that much," Severus replied with a sort of mild sorrow. He released his husband and fell on to his back. "I suppose you're regretting suggesting we move back in with each other?"

"I was," Harry said truthfully. Severus sighed and shifted his weight, apparently meaning to move out of his side of the bed. "But," Harry said forestallingly. "I don't see why we need to move out."

Severus gave him a wary, curious look.

"Well," Harry continued, "we certainly won't be sharing a bed at Hogwarts-" Severus gave him as look that said he was stating the obvious, "and we have less than a week before we go back, so… I think we can share this gigantic bed for a few days. And by the time we get back to it, we'll have had a chance to," he shrugged, "get to know each other, I guess."

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt too much," Severus agreed. Harry nodded and then lay down on his back. They stayed like that for several minutes, shoulder-to-shoulder, silent, with the tension building up around them.

After several minutes of this, Harry finally rolled onto his right side and hesitantly placed his head on his husband's shoulder. Severus was tense for a moment and then relaxed and wrapped an arm around him, to which Harry responded by setting his left hand lightly on Severus chest. They stayed like that, their breathing even and regular and eyes open, and pretended to sleep.

Harry and Severus spent the remaining days of the break in between this party and that party, Harry always remaining practically glued to Severus' side, lest one of the Death Eaters decide they could use a few brownie points with the boss. The parties were exceptionally boring and Harry was getting to the point where if he had to smile and shake hands and chat politely with one more Death Eater Lord, he was going to snap.

They'd taken Petunia and Dudley to the Malfoy Christmas party and after that, had left them home. Though those assembled had been perfectly polite, it was clear that having them –especially Petunia- anywhere near Wizarding high society was very bad. Harry had then consigned them to the dubious mercies of their tutor, a sour-faced, balding little man who was used to teaching aristocratic children, and so dealt with both his students as though they were spoiled brats –not that he was too far off the mark.

Petunia had been in tears more than once.

When the day finally came for them to be heading back to school, Harry had never been more relieved.

"I'll be back for Easter," Harry promised his aunt, who was giving him a helpless look; he was going to leave her here, all alone with _that man_! Harry ignored the look and patted her lightly on the hand.

"Mr. Elsby tells me you're coming along quite well in your studies," he said, trying to lighten the mood. Though he wouldn't deny, if asked, that he was also torturing his aunt a little. He couldn't help it really. She had been unfailing polite in the last few weeks, perhaps understanding that she was there on his sufferance only, but he couldn't help but remember her bony hand on his arm as she threw him into the closet, or her high-pitched shriek when he did –or didn't- do something wrong. He couldn't erase the swats with the hot spatula or the nasty look she gave him on his birthday, as though just daring him to ask why he wasn't getting a party or any presents.

Petunia shuttered at her tutors name and nearly whined.

"I know it's difficult, but you'll be fine. You wouldn't want to be behind when you start school, now would you?" Harry asked, imitating, with a fair amount of success, Draco's polite, patronizing, aristocratic tones. Behind him, he thought he heard Severus snort.

"I don't want to stay here alone!" Petunia wailed finally.

"Well, I can't take you to school with me. Besides, you're not alone. There's Dudley, and L'oReen and the house elves, and Mr. Elsby, of course." She sniffed and looked for all the world as though she were going to break out in tears. Harry clenched his teeth; he could only be aristocratic and polite for so long… and it would be so very easy…

"Harry," Severus called, his voice containing a hint of steel, as though he knew Harry was about to take out his wand and petrify his aunt.

"Can we write to you?" Dudley asked finally. He had been extremely quiet since leaving his father, and, unlike his aunt, actually had been doing very well with his studies.

"Sure," Harry said with a shrug. He wouldn't necessarily write back, but that was another matter entirely. "And you should come to the last Quidditch match. It will probably Gryffindor and Slytherin, like usual-" there was that almost-not-quite-but-maybe snort again "but even if it isn't, you'd probably enjoy it." He hoped fervently that Gryffindor was in that match. He didn't fancy trying to explain the game to Petunia while trying to watch it as well. Although, with her fear of heights, it might be interesting…

"We need to go now," Severus said impatiently. He gave Petunia and Dudley a slight nod by way of farewell, briefly embraced his housekeeper and then stepped into the floo. Harry rolled his eyes and hugged L'oReen as well. He was surprised –and more than a little uncomfortable- when Petunia suddenly pulled him into her arms.

"Write to me every day!" she demanded, showering his face with the kisses she usually reserved for 'Dudderkins.' He looked at Dudley in horror and silent plea, but his cousin only stuck his tongue out and seemed to be saying, _now you know how _I_ feel._

Harry extracted himself with some small force from his aunt's arms and backed away quickly.

"Goodbye," he said with a small, tight smile. He stepped into the floo before Petunia decided he needed a nickname.

When he emerged into Severus' quarters, the older man was waiting beside the hearth impatiently. Harry got the impression that if the gesture wasn't so beneath the refined Severus Snape, the man would be tapping his foot. As it was, all he was doing was glaring, his arms crossed over his chest.

"She hugged me!" he declared, partly in defense and partly in hopes that he would get some sympathy. Being hugged by Petunia Dursley –or Evans, rather, as she insisted on being called- was arguably a fate worse than the Dementor's Kiss. Severus seemed to consider making a vaguely sympathetic response, but in the end settled for taking his young husband by the shoulders and steering him toward the door.

"You had best get back to your friends," he said firmly.

"Tired of me already, Severus?" Harry asked, a note of playful mischief lacing his voice. They had managed to survive sharing their large bed, and had even gone so far as to offer each other a goodnight kiss, but, as promised, had not pushed their newfound tolerance. Harry didn't much savor the idea of dealing with Severus in class if he was bitter about what transpired of the holiday.

"As a matter of fact," Severus said, but though Harry gave him a shocked, kicked-puppy look, they both knew he was kidding. In a serious sort of way. Harry didn't doubt that the man was tired of Harry's constant company; for a man who was used to spend great lengths of time in complete solitude, the amount of time he'd spent with Harry must have been trying.

"Goodbye; and I don't want to see you until dinner time. At which point you will be sitting with the Gryffindors," Severus said firmly when they reached the door. Harry grinned at him impishly.

"Alright. Sit with the Gryffindors. No intruding on your private time. Got it." Severus, seemingly satisfied, opened the door and gestured to the corridor. Harry didn't leave right away, put stood on his toes to kiss his husband lightly on the lips. The kiss was reminiscent of the one they had shared at the top of the landing so very many nights ago. Severus' face softened for a moment, and he cupped Harry's face gently as he pressed his lips more firmly to his husband's. The kiss, like all of their kisses, did not surpass the boundaries of chaste, and then Harry was being gently pushed into the corridor. The door shut slowly behind him and Harry walked off lightly, very nearly humming, but stopping himself just in time.

He _was_ in Slytherin territory, after all.


End file.
